Shadows

At my side like a slick second skin,
The Shadows linger impossibly thin,
They whisper of deeds to darken the soul,
And reach deep inside to swallow me whole.

To catch a glimpse of them naked in light,
Is like falling into a cold strangled night,
A bottomless pit of suffocating despair,
Their mental scream like an unholy prayer.

Sometimes my eye that balefully stares,
Is pierced by a shard of onyx nightmares,
Burrowing deep for a cerebral font,
Forcing cracks into crevasses, asking -
"What to do you want?"

I am never alone, where I walk they walk too,
My insidious shadows that whisper of you.

Londo

I long for the old days of succession's and duels,
Of poison, cunning, and dishonourable rules,
I long for the old days of rich food and lust,
Of wine and good service from slaves I could trust.

But darn the Narn, darn the Narn,
With their spotted heads, I wish we'd gone,
And bombed them, chopped them, run them through,
Back in the old days,
Wonderful bold days,
Back in the grand days,
When all was new.

I dream about days of glory and power,
The Republic stands tall, as others cower,
I dream about days spent with plenty of friends,
Gambling and winning, setting new trends.

But darn the Narn, darn the Narn,
Instead of training them, we should have gone,
And bombed them, chopped them, shot them dead,
Back in the old days,
Wonderful bold days,
Back in the grand days,
When blood was shed.

I live in dark days of destruction and war,
Our hand stretches far and still we want more,
I live in dark days, an Emperor to be,
Ruling over a world of Shadows, and me.

So darn the Narn, darn the Narn,
If it wasn't for Morden we wouldn't have gone,
And bombed them, chopped them, done them in,
Here in the last days,
Terribly vast days,
Here in the dark days,
Of Shadows who'll win.

Ivanova

Talia oh Talia you left me in the lurch,
A few more episodes and it might have been the church,
But no, I guess that screen kiss wasn't to be,
Talia oh Talia, which part of you loved me?

We kept our moments safely under cover,
I thought I knew you and we each knew one another,
But behind your smiles it seems you wanted more,
Until with Divided Loyalties you turned back to the Core.

The Mother and the Father, they programmed your mind,
I who hate them all, with you I was blind,
But you don't know it all and now I'm glad to say,
It's better to have loved and lost,
You were a lousy lay !

Time's Love

Once upon a rhyme, in a land where all was good,
There lived a girl of spirit who would always wear a hood.
She hid herself from strangers, at the top of a high tower,
And sealed herself with magic, to keep out the strongest power.
All day and night she whispered the countless things to come,
She only knew the future, so you see she wasn't dumb.
But she was very sad, she had no life to lead,
If you only know the future when the present's what you need.
Many had tried and failed, her tower walls to climb,
Seeking her gift of vision, spanning the end of time.
Then one day came a boy, who knew not where he wondered,
He was soon beneath her tower, and the past is what he pondered.
Ever since a young boy, what had been was his to know,
With all that prior knowledge, you can guess he was quite slow.
He would take a while to think, his tongue tied in all weathers,
Because he had no link to speak with present day endeavours.
Before he knew what step to take, dwelling on what he'd taken,
He'd climbed the tower and met the girl, who had all the world forsaken.
She saw in him all that she'd seen, and waited so long for,
But he hadn't a clue of her, and waited by the door.
She knew when, and he could wait, until the moment came,
When past and future chanced collide, when a kiss made them the same.

The Gray Man

In an alley leans a twisted arch,
Where dusk gives dawn furtive glances,
And dreams are strangled at their birth,
By a bellrope noose jerking dead mens' dances.

By this twisted arch stands a gray man,
His coat and cloak, gray like his hair,
With eyes of slate and face a shadow,
Twilight lurks in his gloomy stare.

The Quest

A hand raised in gentle art,
Touches upon a ruddy stream,
Feather brushing narrow banks,
Kissed by iron now all a'gleam.
A litany to thirsty gods,
Bends robed backs upon an altar low,
Tear rich bowls ring mountain fresh,
Faces drift beneath blankets like snow.
Wearing the road as a cloak,
A weary walker fights his faith,

Keeping unspoken vigil,
Over the silent dreaming waif,
As bells toll the glide of feet,
To benediction for the blind,
Who witnessed worldly signs and sins,
Casting eyes to hellish finds,
Thoughts arise in ill-humored air,
Sluggish through a heinous cloud,
Assailing angel's glass rainbows,
Asking "Why?", "Why allowed?"
The strain of years a map made,
Upon an unwavering soul,
Humbling youth to an end,
Sad winter white, and bitter coal.
Trembling the walker falls,
Helm to knee, slow sword to draw,
Approaching Death, cowled and cold,
Awaits the passing of young and old.
My Quest is done, my bones' brittle,
My sight is poor, my arms are weak,
Gaze upon a life-time's work,
I am worthy of the trade I seek,
Let my soul on ethereal roads,
Journey still, for what is true,
It lies listless in cloying climes,
Intent my impiety to rue,
Take mine, in truth it should be thus,
Let Death court this Knight unjust.
A hand lowered in the act,
Sealing black the lids of one,
From light ablaze, warming backs,
Bells ringing faint, soon for none.

Perceptions
Red days weep for a lost time,
Seeping through the cuts of crime,
That mar the face of a human race,
With external eyes internalising lies,
On framework flesh puppets, all virtue dies.

The Queen of broken hearts
May your face make angels and devils weep,
But look, it already will,
May your tongue be forever sharp and cruel,
But listen, it already is,
May your heart freeze and blood run cold,
But feel, it already has,
May your perfume make people writhe,
But smell, it already does,
May your lips be lethal poison to the touch,
But taste, you already have.

Without myself
I dance without feet, on a stage of my making,
I sing without songs, without a breath taking,
I paint without feeling, to a heart long broken,
I love without loving, for the words left unspoken.

The Ford
"The ford is ahead !" cry the warriors of Hate,
Astride with the wind on which they are late,
Steel sharpened on the pain of what's lost,
Sorrows sown as their kin count the cost.
Blood to the rocks, to the swift River King,
Flood with the rising, the calling to sing,
Wind to the flown, who die in the strife,
A war upon Nature, who gave them life.
And after, Sons lying cold on the bed,
Lament of the wives over blood freshly shed,
Evil no more, the men just returning,
The battle is won, the children are learning.

Tales
I am born into a night so deep,
So cold and filled with sorrow,
A world of pain, my eyes aflame,
With tears for each tomorrow.
Empty hearts keep stagnant souls,
Passions run looped courses,
Shadow people, flock by steeples,
Faith after death remorses.
The flesh and bone material,
Awaiting Time's decay,
The Hope and Dream not as they seem,
Life's duty-free relay.
I am one, my mind alone,
However lost, homeward I go,
A love of living, dream fulfilling,
The story-teller is all I know.

Her Glance
Another second, she turns to glance,
That gaze of moonlight, to hold in trance,
My motion, body, thought and soul,
In a world where all but she is droll.
My heart is frozen, a beat in space,
She turns and breath to breath her face,
Touches mine in rhapsody,
The fire's of life our gravity.
Our lips as one, the kiss soon over,
Minds arace in kindled nova,
A spark of unity between two parts,
The coming together of two hearts.

To Catch a Wish
Faith

She sat where all the dreams had flown,
Awash in shards of light a'dance,
Upon a rainbow shore unknown,
To catch a wish by cheating chance.

She cradled to herself a hope,
A harp strung from the sun's loose seams,
Playing a lay of sun-spun rope,
To snare the timeless sprites and beams.

She saw and heard all that had passed,
Glimpsed much of what was not to be,
Then came to rest, not least nor last,
To loose her dream, remain as she.

Sister
Sweet Sister tree,
Bend, embrace me,
Hold me in the gale.

Sweet Sister tree,
I love thee,
Without you, I would fail.

Do we?
Do we see our lover ?
Do we see ourselves ?
Do we know our fates ?
In this world of pain,
In this world of pain,
In this life of gates;
Each manifold hinge,
Shapes us by its swings,
Towards what end ?
But a place of dreams.

Do we kiss a shade ?
Is it empty karma ?
Or a conscious fade ?
With each passing breath,
Each mirror that flips,
Yes we cry out lonely,
As our world slips,
Shut.

By the Fireside
By the fireside, I by evening rest,
Sat a forlorn span from Winter's jest,
Her promises fleeting, a wake of my past,
To end the suffering and weep at last.

Gusting shaves the wind, man's foil,
Upon his stern, young laughter loyal,
Sank beneath and gently died,
At the cliff where drowned my pride.

That love could be so swift and cruel,
A moments heat in the mewl of Yule,
My mind adrift to a single touch,
One hesitant kiss, one love too much.

Never more for me the flame,
My maiden-head crafted from shame,
Is broken, as given upon that prow,
Which dips below my horizon now.

Why be?
Why try undo what's already done?
Why dwell in the past?
Not what's to come.
Why be sad?
Why be cold?
Why be empty?
Why be told?
That you aren't real in an unreal land,
That your thoughts don't count,
That you can't make a stand.
Why listen to words so easily led?
Why kill one another?
Over blood freshly shed.
Why struggle so?
When you're trying to die,
Why not be yourself?
I wish I knew why.

A Pearl

A wrapped up man in a wrapped up world,
Sits eternally snug in a rosy pearl,
All the sky to see and waves to watch,
Are the fruit of the tree in his garden of such -
Pleasant thoughts arising from a fountain of unknown -
Symphonies plucked, on string strung over whale bone.
What mermaid dances in her watery lair,
For the man enraptured by the pin in her hair?
Or lion roars on its road of Kings,
A hollow sound of broken things?
The purity of a wiseman's wish,
To be worn around such a slender fish,
Or crowned upon the brow royale,
Is nothing next to the throat's canal,
That gracefully inclines to sweet caress,
Fathoms plunged, left swaying listless,
Yes, the one true wish of man must be,
To gaze down forever pectorally.

Exams
Sit, quick, grab a pen and your paper,
Plug in the brain and bleed that distemper,
Rubber, ruler, compass and pertractor,
It's only a mock, just a knowledge compactor.
Scribble, don't feint, don't look left or right,
Look out for the teachers with their eagle sight,
Breathe, reread, contemplate, don't tire,
Was that a bell? Phew it's a fire!

Escapism
Dance around the flame, around and around,
Firelight, firebright, cooking crisp and brown.
Spit, crackle, pop goes a log,
When that's ash, throw on a dog.
Throw on paper, throw on a cans,
Bang! Whoosh! Watch as it expands.
Throw on old clothes, throw on new,
Grab your friend hold, throw them on too!
Throw on your files, sing a little song,
Wow, what a fire! Phew what a pong!

Model Student
Look out ahead! It's a learning curve,
Standby, prepare to make a swerve,
Too many bumps and the road is bleak,
Break, break, you're up the creek,
Then speeding downhill as the model,
Of piss-poor students who do sod all.

The Mission
We're on a mission of erudition,
Swelling brains by thought transmission,
Straining eyeballs, burning power,
Sweaty behind our books we cower,
End of line, skip back, reread,
Understanding plants its seed,
Bibliographies, they help it grow,
Till you're stuck way up the tree of Know.

Sinful Eating

I look down in ritual upon a mountain of white,
That threatens to avalanche off the edge of my world.
Encircling a crater of steaming red ruin,
An abyss of foreign smells, primordial sights.

Like Dante I journey in search of answers,
That sluggishly reside in my own hellish Styx.
A furnace to tempt me and cook my sins,
In the feverish sweat of the starving insane.

Hurrying in hunger I stir the hot coals,
That unearth breathless devils to nip at my buds.
Wielding pitchforks that stoke up gastronomic delight,
And sear me, so tears fall like rain upon fire.

This is my weakness, my wish for Eternity,
My palate flayed, my stomach gorged to bursting.
All sins are indulgences of sensory pleasure,
A curry is infernal, like each soul, made to measure.

The above poems were written over a period of ten years.
If you would like to read more, or wish to comment on them in any way, please email me.